


As Children We Set Fires

by APgeeksout



Category: NXT, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Implied Relationships, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4125297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APgeeksout/pseuds/APgeeksout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sami and Adrian shoot the breeze (no, not that one!) backstage in Montreal after the 5/4/15 episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Children We Set Fires

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mithen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/gifts).



It took the trainers a pretty long time to finish prodding at and icing and making poorly-hidden concerned faces over his shoulder. Eventually, they'd released him, with orders to keep it wrapped up and to get in for an MRI as soon as he touched down in Orlando, and by the time he'd snagged a shower and made his way back into the backstage area, the tag match was in full swing. He didn't have a good sight-line on a monitor, but he knew the moment Adrian started lining up for the Red Arrow by the (way, way louder, but still wholly familiar) sound of the audience losing its mind.

He also recognized the shift in the crowd's noise that signaled somebody working a successful counter, and dimly registered Barrett's music pounding out of the speakers even as Renee Young, barefoot and with a cameraman in tow, drew him into the arena's makeshift green-room for a quickie interview for the NXT viewers.

He didn't mind, really. Renee'd always been good to him - tough when he deserved it, but always fair - and he was touched that the fans would want to hear from him. Talking to them was the least he could do, since wouldn't be getting to do any of this without them. Still, by the time Renee had wrapped the segment, his shoulder was beginning to throb beneath its elastic bandages, a dull ache that radiated down his arm and up into his jaw, and tried to sap some of the good vibes he still had from his match.

His RAW debut match. Against Cena. With a title on the line. At home. With a hero's welcome. Introduced by no less a legend than Bret Hart.

All those years, bullshitting with Kevin in bingo halls and community center gyms, rattrap motel rooms and rusted-out cars that didn't always get them all the way to their destination, he hadn't imagined that this moment – his moment – would find him quite like this. Hadn't predicted the pain he'd be carrying, both fresh and lingering. Would never have guessed that he and Kevin wouldn't be doing it together.

Maybe it didn't feel like he'd thought it would, with the way his arm was nagging at him, and the way he couldn't escape the clock running in the back of his head, ticking down the time to Unstoppable. But he'd worked too hard, poured too much of himself into this – tonight and every night for the last dozen years – not to be walking around feeling pretty satisfied, bopping through the backstage area, knowing he belonged there.

He wound along the path shaped by cables and equipment crates and props, accepting nods and back-slaps, hugs and congratulations along the way: Adam offering a lollipop and the hospitality of the Exotic Express; Titus tugging him into an easy headlock, suggesting a rematch in a mostly-friendly way; Natalya saying how glad her uncle had been to be tapped for his intro and drawing Tyson away after a quick fist-pound, leaving Cesaro behind to reel him into a brief hug.

“You've arrived,” he said quietly, and Sami tried – and failed – not to laugh, a little giddy, at the smallness of the world. He'd arrived. Into a roomful of familiar faces and old friends.

 

The main event was winding down, the crowd going delirious at the opening chords of Ambrose's music, when he finally tracked down one last rival and tag partner and roadtrip companion, watching the final segment unfold on the monitor nearest Wardrobe. He was wearing his glasses, wet hair smoothed back, and had changed out of his gear, except for the purple cape slung over one shoulder.

"So, I was looking for my buddy Adrian," he said, “but nobody seemed to know who I was talking about.”

“Sami!  There's the man of the hour.” Adrian stepped forward and drew him into a hug, one-armed and careful of his taped shoulder. Sami let himself sink into another familiar embrace while the silky cape swirled around them both for a beat. “Congratulations, Hometown,” Adrian said, releasing him and sweeping the cape back.

"I gotta tell you, man, you're making the cape work in the ring, but I'm not sure it's an everyday look."

"Ha. Ha. I'm just picking it up where they've altered it for me."

"Likely story," he said, and grinned.  He hadn't realized how much he'd missed seeing Adrian just about every day, until they were here, falling into the comfortable routine of breaking each other's balls. "Actually, Breeze has started wearing a cape, too."

"Tell him I'm sincerely flattered," Adrian laughed, and gestured for Sami to move with him back toward the locker rooms.  "Have you made any plans for after the show?"

"Nah." He shook his head and smiled ruefully.  "Promised my folks I'd sleep at home tonight." He rubbed absently at his shoulder.  "After seeing this, my mom'll want to fuss, so that's pretty much what's left of my night spoken for."

"Mums," Adrian sympathized.  

"What about you?" he asked, sinking onto a low bench and feeling the night start to catch up with him in heavy eyelids and achy muscles.  "Big plans tonight?  My parents'll be happy to worry over you, too, if you need a place to crash."

"Said I'd grab a pint with Ziggler," Adrian said casually.  His face was hidden from Sami, tipped very studiously toward the garment bag where he was arranging the cape, but he knew that when Adrian looked up he would be blushing.  

He laughed.  "We had a bet going, you know.  Graves thought it'd be Barrett." 

Adrian gave a short laugh and a stream of cheerful profanity.

"Cass said maybe Paige, but Bayley figured on Ziggler all along.  When you two started tagging together, Enzo agreed."

"And who was your money on?" Adrian kicked lightly at his ankle as he walked past to gather up his bag. 

"Sheamus," he said, feeling his phony straight face crumple into a crooked grin.  

"On account of my well-known thing for redheads who've tried to kick my face in?"  Adrian managed to hold his poker face for a beat longer than Sami had, but still cracked into a laugh.  They'd never been that kind of partner or possibility to each other, but joking around about it was old and easy and _theirs_ in a way that Sami found suddenly reassuring, connecting this locker room with the dozens they'd shared before, linking him back to the person he'd been then.  

"So, how is it?" he asked, watching Adrian go through his leaving-the-venue routine, eyes sweeping the surfaces of lockers and benches and shelves for stray belongings even though he was usually too precise to lose track of his stuff to begin with.  "Being with the main show?"

"Fantastic, really.  Great as we always thought it'd be.  Got a bit spoiled by Orlando, I think; forgot what it was like to be so much on the road." He smiled, a little sheepish. "Dolph's helped get me back into the swing of it."

"Among other things?"

"Among other things," he agreed, shouldering his duffel and draping the garment bag over one arm.  He stepped back in front of Sami and paused for a moment, every bit the man choosing his next words carefully.  "Word is you could already know how the main roster is first-hand."

He shrugged, awkwardly, with the one shoulder.  "Word should also be that I've got some business to finish before I move on."

"Owens," Adrian said.  There was no question in his tone, only a sigh.

With someone else, he might have said something about the Title, made a token show of being less pathetic than he felt, but Adrian knew him - maybe not for as long as Kevin, but just as well in some ways - and so, he just nodded and echoed, "Owens."

Adrian smiled again, sadly this time, and offered a hand to haul him back to his feet.  When he took it, he found himself drawn first to his feet and then into another hug, less ginger than the first.  "Take better care of yourself this time, could you?"

"Sure thing," he promised.  "Soon as I'm done taking care of him."


End file.
